


late night whispers

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, a lot of talk about fetishes??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monty doesn't realize that Miller's a pretty light sleeper. Miller's usually actually awake when Monty's talking about his feelings for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	late night whispers

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure there's a real plot to this lmao but it was fun to write and I hope you like it!

“Aw, c’mon Monty,” Bellamy says. His voice is low, rumbling and teasing. Miller hasn’t heard Bellamy sound like this in weeks, maybe months. Not since Clarke packed up for med school and left to the other side of the country. “I see how you look at him.”

At once, Miller feels his chest restrict. He’s been going in and out of sleep for the past hour or so, the vodka unsure if it wants to wake him up or knock him out. 

“He’s got someone,” Monty answers. “And even if he didn’t, Nate wouldn’t want to be with someone as stupid as me.”

They’re in Raven’s apartment. They’ve been having weekly parties, their little group, ever since Clarke left. They play video games and take shots and pretend like things are okay, that Clarke decided to stay instead of leave, that Bellamy isn’t broken by their distance induced break-up and Raven doesn’t miss her best friend. Miller currently has his arm draped over his eyes but his heart is pounding in his chest. 

“I still can’t believe you can get away with calling him Nate,” Bellamy says, this time with a laugh in his voice. “And you’re not stupid, Monty. You’re a literal genius. What the hell’s your IQ?”

Monty laughs a little then. “That’s not what I meant,” he says. “It’s just he’s _Nate_  and I’m _Monty_.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing, being Monty,” Bellamy murmurs. “He’d be lucky to have you.” 

“He has someone else,” Monty says again. “That’s all there is to it.” The thickness of his voice makes Miller’s stomach feel heavy.

* * *

They’re in the car. They’ve been driving for the past four hours and Bellamy’s in the driver’s seat. It’s dark out, late, Miller isn’t sure what time. Raven’s in shotgun and Monty’s squished beside Monty. Miller isn’t sure when it happened, when he nestled into Monty’s side, but Monty doesn’t seem to mind. 

In fact, Monty’s fingers are moving on their own accord. They trace across Miller’s cheeks, the scruff of his beard. Miller can feel Monty’s warm breath by the way that they’re laying and it’s more than comforting. 

Miller hears a shift and then Raven’s sad voice, “ _Monty_.” 

“Hm?” Monty responds. Miller’s eyes are heavy and he’s on the verge of sleep. The humming of Monty, the way it echoes in his chest, it makes Miller feel warm. 

Raven sighs. “How long’s he been asleep on you?”

“I dunno,” Monty responds. “Doesn’t feel like long.” But Miller knows he’s been laying against Monty for a long time, maybe hours now. They’re on their way to see Clarke, a surprise visit for the weekend, and the drive is the worst of it. “Why?” Raven sighs again. “ _Raven_ ,” Monty murmurs. 

“I don’t enjoy watching you break your own heart, is all,” she murmurs back. Monty’s fingers pause their gentle movement. “You know he’s with Bryan.”

“They’re fighting,” Bellamy chimes quietly from his seat. “But–still. I agree, Monty.”

Miller feels Monty sigh. “I know.” His fingers curl gently. “I know.”

* * *

The only reason Miller’s _not_ asleep anymore is because the front door to Raven’s apartment slammed shut just a _little_  too loudly. He jostles at the sound of the door opening and closing but easily sinks back onto the couch where he’d fallen asleep about an hour before.

It’s been a few weeks since they all road-tripped to see Clarke and Bellamy’s been more of himself since then, but something dislodged in Miller. Not at seeing Clarke, that was great, but because of Bryan. He didn’t like the idea of Miller going on the road trip with his three friends, and even though it went without a hitch things were strained between them since that day. 

Bryan took Miller out to lunch this afternoon and ended things. 

Miller headed straight to Raven’s, took three shots of vodka, and then passed out on her couch.

“But is he _okay_ ,” Miller hears Monty ask, his voice strained and worried. “If I’d known earlier I would’ve been here _earlier_.”

“He’s fine,” Raven answers swiftly. “Napping on the couch.”

And then there’s frustration in Monty’s voice. “Did he give a _reason_? Or did he just end things?”

“I’m sure Bryan had his reasons,” Raven responds, her voice soft as though encouraging Monty to keep his voice down. “Miller didn’t tell me, but I’m sure he had them.”

Monty sighs loud enough that Miller can hear. “He deserves better,” Monty says. His voice is raspy, filled with stress. “God, Miller deserves so much better.”

Miller hears Raven sigh too. “He’s not going to want to talk about it,” she says. “So don’t push him.”

Monty nearly scoffs. “You know I won’t.”

“Yeah,” Raven murmurs. “I know.”

* * *

“ _Shhh_ ,” Monty scolds Jasper from across the room. Miller isn’t sure why he continues to agree to these group sleepovers where the gang just throws a shit-ton of pillows and blankets onto the living room floor and curl up together, but here he is. Monty and Jasper are the only two awake but their voices are so familiar they’ve nudged Miller from sleep too. “You’re so _loud_ ,” Monty murmurs with a little laugh.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jasper says again. They’re across the room from Miller so if he focuses on the humming of the overhead fan he should be asleep again in minutes. “But– _seriously_ , dude? His _eyelashes_?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Monty says with another laugh, this one louder than before. 

“You have a fetish,” Jasper returns quietly, their voices soft. “No, I’m serious. But not an eyelash one. Just a Miller one.”

“I don’t have a _fetish_ ,” Monty says, again with a laugh. 

“Dude. When’s the last time you were talking about someone’s _eyelashes?_ You’re so in love with the guy that–”

“Stop,” Monty cuts him off, the teasing lilt to his voice finally gone. Miller’s body aches to curl, to sit up, to _ask_. 

Weeks have passed since things ended with Bryan and Miller wants to talk to Monty about something. _Something_. He can’t figure out how to get that conversation started, but Miller knows it’s there. That attraction. That connection. During the day when they hang out everything is so _natural_. Miller’s well aware of Monty’s crush on him now, if only because Monty sucks at making sure Miller’s asleep before he starts talking about him. But during the day it’s like nothing’s different.

Monty’s still Monty. Adorable and witty and bright. Sharp collarbones, flirty eyes. Intentional lingering touches.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Jasper asks so quietly that Miller has to strain to listen. “He’s single, you’re single…”

Monty’s quiet for a little bit. “Maybe I will,” he says.

Miller’s heart somersaults in his chest.

* * *

Monty doesn’t say a thing, and weeks pass before he slips up again. 

This time they’re out visiting Clarke again and everyone’s sleeping in random locations. Bellamy and Raven are sharing a bed with Clarke, Clarke smushed in the middle, and Miller and Monty have ended up out on the pullout couch. Clarke’s roommate Wells had offered to let them sleep in his room but Miller doesn’t mind the couch, or the Monty. 

Like most of their nights together, they’ve all had a lot to drink. And Miller isn’t a lightweight by any standards but the long drive to visit Clarke was exhausting and he nearly collapses on the couch the second they’re all in.

There’s a lot of hustle and bustle as everyone gets situated. The pull-out dips as Monty climbs on too, and the apartment settles. Faint laughter can be heard from Clarke’s bedroom every now and then and it makes Miller feel warm knowing that all of his friends can be together for a few days again. 

When he hears Monty sigh, Miller isn’t sure what he expects.

“One of these days,” Monty says, apparently to himself, “I’m just going to do it.” Miller’s had his eyes closed for a bit so Monty’s probably assuming he’s asleep. Only he’s not. He’s very, very awake. Despite the aching exhaustion in his limbs, the many drinks he had, hearing Monty’s voice has made him very alert. “I’m just going to tell you I’m in love with you. Which is ridiculous,” Monty adds with a huff. “Because you’re so _clearly_  not into me at all. And I’m hopeless. And you’re gorgeous. And just–”

He can’t take it anymore.

“ _Monty_ ,” Miller groans, cutting him off. He forces his eyes open just in time to watch the shock take over Monty’s features. “You _really_  have to make sure people are asleep before you start talking about them,” he says. 

Monty’s mouth opens and closes. “Nate,” he manages, despite the shock. “I’m wasn’t, uh–”

“Oh, save it,” Miller murmurs. He sits up then. His hands are feeling slightly too heavy from the alcohol but he reaches for Monty and with very minimal amount of effort, tugs Monty toward him. Miller covers Monty’s mouth with his own, pressing the boy down onto the couch-bed they’re sharing, reveling in low groan Monty gives in response. “Or confessing feelings,” Miller adds when he pulls back.

“What do you–”

“Don’t play stupid.” Miller props himself up on one of his elbows as he leans to look at Monty. “You _literally_  just told me you’re in love with me.”

“Ack.” Monty tips his chin back slightly and Miller licks his lips. “But like– _why_.”

“Why?” Miller asks with a laugh. “Why what? I’m supposed to ask _you_  why!” 

“No, just–ugh,” Monty reaches up and grabs both of Miller’s cheeks, forcing him back down. Miller chuckles into Monty’s mouth and Monty groans again, this time because Miller’s hips jerk forward just a little. 

The couch-bed creaks as Monty uses his weight to force Miller to roll, ending with Miller on his back and Monty above him. Monty pulls back then, his hand cupping Miller’s jaw as his thumb brushes across across his stubble lightly. Miller licks his lips another time. He watches with baited breath as Monty’s eyes scan his face, linger on his mouth, his eyes. 

“I hear you have a fetish,” Miller manages, wondering if Monty’s looking at his eyelashes.

“Oh _God_ ,” Monty says with a laugh so bright it could blind Miller in an instant. Miller can’t fight the grin on his face. “How long have you been listening to me talk about you while I thought you were asleep?”

“How often do you talk about me while I’m asleep in the room?” Miller tosses back. Monty makes some sort of noncommittal noise while wrinkling his nose. 

“What have you heard?” Monty asks.

“All good things.”

“ _God_ ,” Monty says again, his voice high as he leans in another time. Miller’s greedy as he drags Monty down for another kiss. Between late night overheard conversations and daily sexual tension, Miller’s wanted this for what feels like forever. His hands slip up Monty’s shirt and Monty groans another time, gasping as they part so Miller can tug it up and over his head. “Nate,” Monty rasps. “Are you sure?”

Miller tosses Monty’s shirt aside and wrenches off his own with unbelievable speed and precision. With one swift motion Monty’s the one with his back against the couch-bed again, Miller hovering over him with dark eyes. 

“I want you so fucking bad,” Miller murmurs as he leans in. 

“Wow, okay,” Monty breathes back with a giddy smile on his face. “You sound really sure.” Monty’s hands ease up Miller’s bare chest as Miller presses down against Monty again. Monty’s lips are eager, soft, warm, and Miller groans when Monty’s tongue slips inside his mouth. 

* * *

Miller’s drinking coffee in the nearby kitchen when Bellamy and Clarke walk hand in hand from Clarke’s bedroom. Bellamy shoots Monty, presumably still asleep on the couch-bed, a curious look. Probably due to him being shirtless with his hair unbelievably messy. And then the look transfers to Miller, sipping his coffee and looking smug.

“Finally made a move, then?” Bellamy asks with a smile. “You, or him?”

“Monty has a habit of talking about me when he thinks I’m asleep,” Miller answers.

“Oh, gosh,” Clarke says with a little laugh. “What’d he say?”

Miller can _not_  stop looking smug. “Just that he’s in love with me. And I’m gorgeous. And he has an eyelash fetish.”

Monty whines from the nearby couch. “I’m _awake_ ,” he calls through a thick voice, sitting up to look at his friends with his messy hair still wild. Miller smirks, knowing well that Monty’s been awake this whole time. “And I do _not_  have an eyelash fetish!”

Miller strides from the kitchen to the couch, passing his mug to Monty so he can take a sip. “Don’t lie,” Miller says as Monty drinks his coffee.

“If I have an eyelash fetish,” Monty says, “you have a collarbone fetish.”

Miller takes the mug back with a frown. He may or may not have spent a lot of the night suckling across Monty’s collarbone, as evidenced by the insane amount of hickies Monty now has. “Shut up.” Monty just has really nice collarbones, okay?

Clarke laughs brightly and Raven stumbles out of the back bedroom looking half-asleep. “What’d I miss?” she asks, rubbing at her eyes. 

“Apparently Miller has a collarbone fetish,” Bellamy says. Monty looks pleased and cocks his eyebrow, his smile widening when Miller rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, _finally_ ,” Raven says as she makes her way to the coffee pot. “You two were driving me insane.” 

Miller passes back the coffee mug to Monty who accepts it again, still smiling. Raven and Clarke and Bellamy start talking about something, Bellamy with his hands arms situated around Clarke’s waist and his chin propped on her head looking more than happy. But Miller’s attention is on Monty, his soft little smile. 

Miller licks his lips before settling down on their messy bed beside Monty. God, he doesn’t care anymore. He takes the mug back from Monty after he’s had another drink and sets it on a nearby end-table before cupping Monty’s cheeks and pulling him in his direction. 

After a quick kiss, Miller stays close. “I should’ve said something earlier,” he murmurs. “I knew how you felt,” Miller says, shaking his head. “I just...” 

“Wasn’t ready?” Monty supplies. Miller tips his head into a slight nod. “End result’s the same,” Monty says. “I’m still freaking crazy about you. And thank God I can say it when you’re awake.”

Miller grins. “Thank God,” he agrees before kissing him again. “Because I’m crazy about you too.”


End file.
